Yan Xing looked at Olaf and the other werewolves.
His werewolf troops were shaky and low in morale!
"If you were to switch sides and kill your own kin without any burden, I would indeed hesitate to rely on you..." After a moment, Yan Xing said to his Werewolf Warriors, "Actually, I have no intention of causing too much bloodshed or creating irreparable hatred with Duan’er."
Olaf looked up and asked, "But... but Clan Leader Duan’er will definitely not give up the farmer’s huts so easily."
Yan Xing said, "That’s right. He won’t give up easily, and neither will I. A battle is inevitable. But as long as Duan’er realizes that attacking my territory will inflict unbearable losses upon him, he will sit down and talk with me. If he’s willing to talk, then no conflict is unresolvable."
Olaf asked, puzzled, "There’s only one set of farmer’s huts, and it can’t be divided... How can this be resolved?"
Yan Xing replied with a smile, "Even if there were two sets of farmer’s huts, I wouldn’t share with Duan’er. In any case, negotiations must be based on strength, and I have ways to make Duan’er agree to a ceasefire. As for you... I will try not to deploy you against your own people. However, if you are required to fight, you must win. Can you do that?"
After Yan Xing had spoken, the werewolves answered in unison, "We can!"
"Good! You are in charge of patrolling outside the defensive wall, protecting the peasants working there. Duan’er and his troops are already lurking nearby; let them see you—especially your armor and weapons."
Olaf led the armed werewolves out of the defensive wall. The scraping of their armor plates against each other created a resounding clang, lending them a very imposing air.
With the protection of the Ironclad Werewolves, Yan Xing dispatched more peasants to assist Lao Hansi.
More traps had to be set before dawn.
Olaf’s Werewolf Warriors should be able to intimidate Duan’er enough to deter him from attempting a night raid.
On the eastern slopes of Yan Xing’s territory, a few werewolves crawled through the grass, using the moonlight to observe the strange camp.
This area, situated downwind at night, was ideal for surveillance and ambush. Yan Xing had chosen this very spot when he previously rescued the peasants from the farmer’s huts.
Among them was one exceptionally strong werewolf with a piece of his left ear missing. He was Duan’er.
At this moment, he stared bewilderedly at the human territory before him. What are these things surrounding the territory? Are they fences made of iron?
Duan’er had seen human territorial walls before. They were typically tall structures built of stone, allowing soldiers to patrol along the top, with sections wide enough for carriages to pass. He had never even heard of walls made from iron netting.
Iron was not easily obtained. Even the Hill Dwarves, with their superior smelting techniques, wouldn’t use iron so extravagantly, let alone the Swamp Tribe, who have no idea how to smelt it. Smelting iron is incredibly difficult.
Seeing so much iron used here merely as fencing filled his heart with envy, jealousy, and avarice; he was practically drooling.
All mine. If I break through this human territory, the farmer’s huts and all this iron will be mine! With human peasants, I’ll have God-given gold coins to recruit more werewolves. With the iron, I can forge weapons to arm my Werewolf Warriors. Red Mud Wetland will be truly under my control, and all the surrounding Werewolf Tribes will submit to me!
But Duan’er was not blinded by the immediate prospect of gain. A human Lord who can afford to build walls from iron is definitely no simple character. He also noticed that the iron fences were entangled with barbed wire. For werewolves lacking protection and siege weapons, these seemingly simple walls won’t be easy to breach. To take this territory with minimal losses, I must plan carefully.
Just as Duan’er was carefully observing the human territory’s defenses, searching for a breakthrough, a Werewolf Guard beside him suddenly exclaimed, "Clan Leader, look! There are werewolves inside the territory, and they seem to be protecting those human peasants..."
The human territory wasn’t large. Bonfires blazed everywhere, and aside from areas obscured by tents and some buildings, most of the camp was clearly visible to the lurking werewolves.
Alerted by the guard, Duan’er also spotted the werewolf squad emerging from behind the iron netting. In the firelight, their armor reflected an orange-red sheen. The sound of scraping iron plates reached his ears clearly.
How extravagant! Utterly extravagant! A group of mere First Order werewolves, all clad in iron armor... Such a waste of precious iron! Hmm? Where did this werewolf squad come from?
The captured peasant said that, apart from other peasants and the Lord, there were no other armed forces in the territory.
Suddenly, Duan’er realized that the appearance of werewolves in the enemy camp was the crucial point.
It seems that peasant was hiding something...
"Continue surveillance!"
After issuing the order, Duan’er slowly climbed down the slope.
Below the slope, a large group of Werewolf Warriors sat on the ground. Their ears were pricked, alert to any movement, and their hands gripped flails, ready to spring into battle at a moment’s notice.
In the midst of the werewolves, a peasant cowered on the ground. He wasn’t tied up, but he wouldn’t have dared to even think of escape.
Duan’er approached the peasant. He didn’t speak, instead picking up a shovel from the ground and closely inspecting its head.
His heart still reeled from the shock of seeing this shovel for the first time. The shovel head wasn’t ordinary iron, but fine steel! Peasants using tools made of fine steel to dig... What an outrageous waste of resources!
Duan’er thrust the shovel back into the ground, the entire head disappearing into the earth. If all the peasants in that territory use shovels made of this fine steel, then even losing half of the sixty werewolves I brought would be worth it.
"Hey, human! You’re quite dishonest." Duan’er crouched before the peasant, his fangs nearly brushing the man’s face. "You said there were only peasants in your camp, no warriors. So why did I just see nine werewolves? If you continue to hide things or lie to me, I’ll eat you slowly, one bite at a time."
The peasant’s face turned ashen with fright. He tried to scoot back, but a werewolf’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, holding him in place.
"I didn’t lie to you..." the peasant stammered in terror, "I really didn’t! In our camp, besides our Lord, who is a Knight, everyone else is a peasant. The werewolves you saw were captured by my Lord; they’re all locked up in cages!"
Duan’er remained incredulous. "Still lying?" he threatened. "Believe it or not..."
Just then, a werewolf hurried over and whispered to Duan’er, "Clan Leader, the Scout watching the human camp to the south reports... Steel Tooth’s pack isn’t in the prison. They’ve sided with that human Lord!"
"What? How is that possible?!"